


The Ass Club

by madamguillotine



Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: Alcohol, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Crack, F/M, Fluff and Crack, M/M, Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-07
Updated: 2020-03-07
Packaged: 2021-03-01 02:01:52
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 699
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23057410
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/madamguillotine/pseuds/madamguillotine
Summary: Based on this prompt: http://otpprompts.tumblr.com/post/146483690902/which-one-of-your-ot3-is-the-bad-ass-smart-ass
Relationships: Joly/Bossuet Laigle/Musichetta
Kudos: 1





	The Ass Club

Bossuet finished before Joly. He always did. Joly finished and gasped. Musichetta was always the winner when their relationship when they went head-to-head in a drinking contest.

The Les Amis had come as a group, though as the night went on Joly, Bossuet and Musichetta slowly separated themselves while the others went to the dance-floor with widely varying degrees of awkwardness and enjoyment.

At around midnight, they staggered out after some nearly-tearful goodbyes. They collectively looked around trying to decide right or left out of the club. As drunk as they were, they decided to follow the smell of food.

They passed a tattoo shop and halted.

"We don't need food!" Musichetta held up an decisive finger, shaking it slightly. "We need tattoos!" she said in manner that said like what she was saying was a matter of fact.

"We can do both!" Joly chirped, smiling at nothing and started making faces at himself in the glass and giggling softly.

The tattoo artist appeared on the other side of the glass matching Joly's expression. Joly jumped back a little before recognizing the mop of curls.

"Grantaire!" he exclaimed, excitedly. So, they entered the tattoo parlor.

"Hey there, sailors! Come here often?" Grantaire cast them his best coquette look, fluttering his eyelashes. "Need a place to sober up?"

"We need tattoos" Musichetta grinned.

"Matching tattoos" Joly smiled.

"Almost matching" Bossuet said, tenting his fingers. They turned to look at him, confused. He wordlessly pointed at a three part tattoo that said "Bad ass. Smart ass. Great ass" and crossed his arms triumphantly. Joly and Musichetta agreed.

Grantaire looked them over

"How much have each of you had to drink-well, obviously enough to think think is a good idea"

"It's a great idea." Bossuet corrected.

"Alright, who's first?" Musichetta raised her hand. Grantaire knew he couldn't give his friends these tattoos when they were this drunk. He asked where they each wanted it, and when they naturally responded "Ass", he hatched a plan.

Musichetta lied down on the table with her ass to the open air. He crouched down so the boys wouldn't be able to see what he was holding.

He started drawing the words "Great Ass" in a distressed old-timey circus font with a permanent marker. Joly was the next contender, and he wrote "Smart Ass" in a flowing script. The last was Bousset.

"What kind of font do yo-"

"Comic Sans!" he interrupted.

Grantaire knew this was the worst-great-drunk idea he's had. So, he wrote.

"How much do we owe you?" Musichetta asked pulling out her wallet. Grantaire waved his hand.

"Don't bother. It's on the house"

"But-" Bossuet started.

"Go home and go to bed. You'll be better in the morning" Grantaire assured them.

\--

The next day after a round of showers. They compared notes of what had happen the night prior.

"I remember leaving the club on our own..." Musichetta nodded.

"Then, where did we go?" Joly asked.

"Lightweights." Bousset smirked and sipped his coffee. In defense against the defensive glares he got he provided the missing part of the night. "Grantaire was working and gave is free ass tattoos.

"That's what was written on my ass!" Joly exclaimed, lowering the glass pipe from his lips. "Mine came off in the shower, mostly" The other two agreed.

\--

The bell hanging above the door jangled in the tattoo shop. Grantaire looked up. The group of them were as surprised to see him as he was to see them.

"We asked for tattoos last night." Musichetta said folding her arms

"You were stumbling you were so drunk. Friends don't let friends get ass tattoos when their drunk."

"We're not drunk now. What we are, are the founding members of The Ass Club. And we need visual proof!"

"Wanna join?" Bossuet asked mischievously.

"You can have 'Ass Master'" Joly added.

Grantaire let out a uproarious belly laugh. "I would never to belong to an Ass Club that would allow me a member"

\--

When the tattoos were finished and cared for, they paid this time, and left the store happy but sore.

"You know..." Bossuet trailed off.

"Know what, dear?" Joly asked.

"T-shirts would have been less of a hassle."


End file.
